Silence is Golden sometimes

At the moment it's quiet. Really quiet. After a typical day here in the Q family household I really appreciate the peace.
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Every year about this time we have two trees in our front garden which bloom and every year at dawn we're woken by the noise of a huge number of rainbow lorikeets as they come to feast on the nectar. They may be very pretty parrots but they squawk like parrots too. One morning as I was reading my Bible on the patio in the sun they seemed to be having a fight, judging by the noise they were making. I could almost imagine the conversation:
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Bird 1: Hey you! That's my branch you're sitting on.

Bird 2: You had a turn last year, it's my turn this year.


*birds start chasing after each other, settle on a different branch and resume conversation*


Sometime around 7 am, Anika starts her piano practice and we hear Bach, Mozart, Tchaikovsky and Joplin in turn. I don't mind the piano music but Mike sometimes 'helps' by going in and plonking on either end of the keyboard. Around dinner making time Anika plays again, but this time with an accompaniment by Hubby who's just come home from work and is playing a new ukulele tune. The problem is that it's a completely different tune to the one Anika is playing.

Added to the noise of the day is that Mike is in a particularly talkative phase at the moment. Whenever he has the opportunity he likes to talk at length about the entire plot of a recent DVD he may have watched, what he's going to do in two weeks time on the holidays, what Puppy thinks about life in general and so on.

Mike can be incredibly cute though. It's become his responsibility to set the table for dinner. I have a set of cutlery which has flowers on the handles. It's a fairly cheap set that I just bought for cooking. Then I have a set (without flowers) that is the table set. Mike does not know this and if he did he probably wouldn't stand on ceremony anyway so he just puts out whatever comes to hand in the cutlery drawer. A couple of nights ago, whilst setting the table, he dropped a knife on the floor when setting my place. I got a clean one out of the drawer and gave it to him. When he saw it had no flowers he said, "That's not right Mummy. I have to give you the flower one because that means I love you." I washed the flower one and handed it back to him.




Tonight while I was frying fish Mike asked me, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked him to clarify and he added, "You know, like a builder or a nurse guy or a cooking person." I was a bit stumped about this so we talked about it over dinner. Hubby suggested that if Lloyd 'grew up' much more we'd need new ceilings. Lloyd then told Mike that he wanted to be a skyscraper when he grew up.


After a bit of thought I've decided on what I want to be when I grow up. I'd like to be a Grandma.

Signs of the Season

1. The Qing family are always asking, "What can I eat?"
2. The laundry pile is like Mt Everest each day.
3. Mrs Q looks around wistfully at the house and imagines a roaring fire.
4. We all crowd into Anika's room to do schoolwork.

Yes, winter has hit. I know I was born in Britain but I really feel the cold here. Today it was 12 degrees celcius in our lounge room at 8:30 am. In England you'd never have your house that cold - you'd heat it somehow. When we lived in the country we had gas heating which was fabulous.

I can't complain too loud. The main bedroom and Anika's room have reverse cycle air-conditioning so we all cope by spending most of our time in there.

I was aghast yesterday morning when the parcel delivery man arrived. He was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. I opened the door dressed in 5 layers of clothing. I asked him how he could possibly not be cold without a jumper on. His response was, "Yeah, it was a bit nippy first thing this morning."

This reminded me of a time about 6 years ago. Our minister at the time was Canadian (born and raised in Quebec). I never saw him wear a jumper. One Wednesday night he turned up for Bible study and I pretty much asked the same question as I asked the parcel man. He said, "Yes, it is cold, that's why I'm wearing this." *points to acrylic knitted sleeveless vest over a t-shirt and shorts*

I remember one Sunday morning when we'd had frost and he told us that none of the congregation would survive in a blizzard in Quebec. He took his Australian wife back there to visit his mother and decided to teach her some French before he left. One night he told me in French what phrases he was teaching her to say. I knew enough French to translate "Close the eggs" and other such phrases. I quietly told her later not to say any of these sayings in Quebec or she'd be laughed at. Such a spoil sport I am.